Sindhudurg

 

Come 2^nd February and we were on our way to a destination which was kept a secret from us till we could bear the suspense no longer. I don’t think we have ever played a more intense guessing game.

We landed at the new, under construction, state of the art “Manohar” airport in North Goa. We could make out it would be a very classy arrival/departure point.

A 2 hour drive to the resort saw us crossing the Goa border into Maharashtra. The drive through clean villages with thick jungles on both sides and with hardly any traffic woes was special.

The name Sindhudurg, a district in Southern Maharashtra, evoked Indianness. Coco Shambhala, our resort, was located in the quiet and serene Bhogwe village. A fishing and farming community, it’s a tropical land of forts, beaches, the sea, dolphins and of course, very friendly people. Dotted with mango groves, coconut palms, orchards, colourful rural markets, it offers a unique experience to its guests.

Coco Shambhala is a collection of four sedately luxurious villas in the midst of complete peace and privacy as it is in a relatively unexplored part of the Western coast. One can very easily miss Coco Shambhala as there is no fancy gate or entrance to make you hold your breath. That’ll happen later.

As soon as we alighted at our unassuming resort, the concierge and his staff sang a heartfelt “Happy Birthday ma’am” directed at Aruna. She was most pleasantly surprised as we all were – it was a well-planned gift for her no. 45.

Once the gate opened, a flight of special stone steps – 45 of them – finally turned off the main path and we were in our villa. The going up and coming down was quite a well needed exercise. The open-air villas stand on an elevation above ground level, hence the ascent and descent. The furnished indoor and outdoor space of the villa was surrounded by lush jungle-like gardens. The open and large living pavilions were enveloped by stunning vegetation and afforded a muted view of the sea.

A unique feature of the villa was the absence of any door at the entrance. A rope was strung from one side of the entry to the other and a bell hung there would be rung when the staff wanted to enter the villa.

There were colourful balloons in the main living area which comprised the kitchen space, dining space and drawing room space. This open space led to the private swimming pool with its clear, inviting waters, again surrounded by trees and bushes but giving us a splendid view of the sea. The bedrooms were on the 2 sides of this open pavilion and I could immediately guess which one was theirs. The give away were the balloons.

After taking in the beauty of the unfettered surroundings and hearing the sounds of the sea just beyond the trees bordering the pool, we sat down for a sumptuous lunch. The chef and the kitchen staff were absolutely amazing. Mouth-watering, lip smacking food was served in the comfort of our very own dining space. The chef and his team, we were told, would work closely with the farmers and fishermen to get fresh produce. Before every meal, the kitchen staff would meet the guests and discuss the menu. They were particular about our dietary requirements and our special culinary leanings. This, according to me, was real luxury.

Apart from being spoilt to the extreme by the personal”ized” service of the staff, their warmth and their gastronomical spread, we were also provided with a cell phone (for local and inland calls), an iPod docking station, a pair of binoculars, board games and complimentary wifi and laundry services. We couldn’t have asked for more pampering

Aruna’s birthday celebration culminated with the special dinner prepared for the occasion. We had to climb more steps to reach the glade-like open space and every step taken was worth it. The table was laid under the cashwenut tree and there were flowering plants all around us. The beautiful ambience took our breath away. Once we made ourselves comfortable, Aruna was given a beautiful bouquet of local flora and crotons. After the tasteful dinner, there was a cake also with candles to be blown. I’m sure Aruna wouldn’t have got such a warm birthday treat anywhere else. Kudos to the staff.

The beach was just a stone’s throw away from our villa. In the evening breeze, it was inviting. We would walk the long coastline and venture a bit into the sea too, emboldened by the tidal walks in the Andamans. We collected shells, walking slowly and purposefully. Here also there were patterns made on the sand by the male crabs to woo female crabs. But I feel the Radha Beach crabs (again, the Andamans) were more artistic, the name of the beach having nothing to do with it.

A&A were absolutely at home in the private swimming pool. As always, we wished Meera was with us. The pool was not only enjoyed by them but also by bulbuls, swifts, crows and various birds which would land on the ledge and take a break from their flight to drink water and have a nice shower (wetting their wings and then drying themselves). The crow would carry some food in its mouth, soften it in the water and gulp it down. The swift would gracefully albeit swiftly glide on the water and fly out. We were able to see a variety of birds here although when a bird was pointed out to us, by the time we adjusted the binoculars, the flier would have flown. But then, the interest in and love for birds had percolated down to Kuppu and me.

As only the two bedrooms had doors, monkeys and a cat had free access to the place. A big bowl of bananas and fruit would be kept out everyday and one fine day, when we returned from our outing, we saw what had happened inside. Banana skins were strewn all over the sofa and the bowl held only apples and oranges. We knew who the culprit was – the ancestor also took pleasure in jumping around on the roof, creating a racket.

When we, or any other guests, came in from outside, we had to wash our feet before entering our villa. A couple of steps from the gate, a metal urn filled with water and equipped with a traditional long ladle, coconut shell at the end, was placed for the purpose. It was a neat idea, we thought.

Our boat ride on the backwaters was a learning experience in more ways than one. We felt distressed to see the backbreaking job of sand miners in the river. Dozens of boats with scores of labourers on them, lowered sacks tied to poles into the water and then pulled and heaved the heavy sand filled sacks and emptied them on the boat. Then, later, these would be painfully loaded on to trucks. They were sweating it out, but must be getting a pittance for their hard work.

We passed through lush mangroves and as we made our way back, we saw in one part of a small island, water sports were underway – para sailing, jet skiing, banana boat and speed boat rides and surfing.

Coming back, it was night and low tide, so the boat stopped away from the coast. I got down with difficulty and plodded to the beach, sweaty and almost blind in the darkness. A staff from the resort came with a flashlight and facilitated our return to the villa.

Our bird watching experience in the morning near lake Pat was interesting. 

We spotted kingfishers, hornbills, cormorants, blue hens, purple swamp hens. We stayed put on the lower deck while A&A went up with the guide to see more unique birds. It was a struggle for us to see a bird or 2. As at the villa, A&A would sight birds on their perches in a jiffy and we, struggling to focus our binoculars, would give the birds enough time to fly away. It was a see here look there drama.

Malvan, a quaint fishing town is home to the world’s largest sea fortress. Constructed during Shivaji’s rule over a period of 3 years, its main objective was to counter the rising influence of foreign merchants. A historical, protected monument, the fort occupies an island in the Arabian sea.

Sindhudurg (sea fortress) was a grand experience. The gigantic walls were designed to deter approaching enemies and the waves and tides of the Arabian sea. The main entrance was concealed in such a way that it is impossible to guess where it could be.

As usual for me, the getting out of the boat was a forgettable feat. I think camels getting up from their sitting positions, do it less clumsily.

The fort walls, tall and solid, seem impregnable. We looked like pygmies next to it. We reached the gate after a long curved walk. Made of teak, the old entrance gate was a marvel. It can only be detected from close quarters. Much of the fort has been left neglected. Our guide, Hitesh, was well informed, eloquent and used Hindi and English proficiently. We passed through a small shopping area and reached an unheard of water source. There were 3 sweet water wells, a few feet away from one another, named Doodh, Dahi and Shakkar. The Shivaji temple in the complex was well maintained – Shivaji’s sword is kept in the chamber but when we went some renovation was going on, so a replica was what we saw.

I decided not to climb the formidable (number wise) steps for a 360 degree view of the entire fort. Hitesh went with the rest of the group and then came back and explained to me what I had missed. I would give him full marks for his consideration.

We were told some families, descendants of the original fort caretakers, remain inside the fort though most have moved out due to lack of employment opportunities and the fact that the rainy season creates havoc. The residents cannot move out for a few months due to high tides so they have to store provisions in advance.

We had to take an early morning boat to see the dolphins. Well, we missed seeing them but because of the high tide and the falling and rising waves, the ride was exciting. The fresh breeze on our faces with a sprinkling of the sea water made for a refreshing outing. Our experienced boatman said that disappointment is quite common because it is difficult to predict when the dolphins will appear – one has to take a chance.

A&A went for an early morning hike and said it was a wonderful adventure. Walking on sometimes uneven, sometimes narrow paths, scaling and descending hills, enjoying the beach walk, making their way between mango groves – all of that was physically and visually satisfying.

Sindhudurg is supposed to be a home to leopards (sightings are quite common, they say) and one of the few regions in the country where you can find the elusive black panthers. We were happy and lucky to sight a fox once on one of our drives.

A unique aspect of the villas was the expertise of the members of the staff in various fields. Each of them was efficient in one activity. When we went bird watching, an expert bird watcher and bird spotter was assigned to us. On their trek A&A had a guide to point out the paths and routes to take. For the back waters ride, there was a person with information on his fingertips. This was a very convenient aspect of the various activities we could enjoy.

It's always difficult to bid goodbye to people or even a place. Coco Shambhala had fascinated us with its natural beauty, its flora and fauna, the soft elegance of the villa and the charming warmth of the staff who had become family, in a way and had endeared themselves to us. Leave we had to but we just did not leave the place, we also left a slice of our hearts there. A brief and beautiful holiday it was.

Andamans

 

Normally, when we hear the word “island”, we imagine a remote, faraway, isolated area, perhaps uninhabited and unwelcoming. But our family holiday destination at the end of 2022, the Andaman Islands, gave it a unique definition. A group of picturesque islands shimmering splendidly in the Bay of Bengal to the east of the Indian mainland, they welcomed visitors unabashedly. Numbering close to 550 islands, only 30 of these are said to be inhabited.

Lush, tropical evergreen forests define much of the landscape. The terrain of the islands is formed of sandstone and limestone. The fauna and flora, both on land and in water, are very special. The luxuriant coconut, palm and betelnut trees, banana plantations as well as the natural fortress of coral reefs are very well protected. Even the dense mangrove forests running along the coastline and forming a distinct barrier of vegetation against the calamities from the sea are under government protection.

Port Blair was our first stop from Chennai. This is the only airport that caters to tourists to the islands. Now called Veer Savarkar airport, there is a strong naval presence here and hence photography in the airport is strictly prohibited. The hotel we stayed in was – welcoming, befitting its name, WelcomHotel. From the reception area, you could see that the sea was almost at the hotel’s doorstep. The heaving, heavy sound of the waves at high tide and the rippling, gurgling sounds at low tide were like music to our ears.

The fresh breeze from the sea hugged the coconut trees before it tugged at our hair. Arjun and Ashwin were happily unruffled. Meera instantly fell in love with the amazing natural scenery and the hotel’s swimming pool and took to it like a fish to water.

On our must-see schedule were Ross Island and the cellular jail. The jetty for Ross Island and the other islands was choc-a-bloc with tourists, all excited to start their adventure. But because of choppy waters, permission was not given to ply the boats. The tour agents had a tough time placating the growing and angry crowds, hot under the collar both because of the heat and the frustration. But the administration is quite strict (and rightly so) and rules were obeyed dutifully. Hopeful cap/hat sellers were tempting the people with their colourful wares. Some people were tempted and decided to spend time and money instead of twiddling their thumbs. We decided to walk to the close by Cellular jail in the interim – the tour agent we had approached seemed to be happy with our non-complaining (Hyderabadi) attitude and said he would call us once things were in place.

The 3 storey cellular jail stands as a mute spectator of the freedom fighting days. As a penal settlement of British rule, the place became known after the 1857 war of Independence. Freedom fighters who, the British feared, would spread rebellion, were imprisoned here and subjected to inhuman torture. Instruments used to subjugate them physically and psychologically so as to keep them dispirited are displayed in a museum. The grim hanging room is a reminder of the violent fate of the brave nationalists. We were shown the long rows of dark, small, dingy cells where the British made sure there was no scope for “verbal” contact and the prisoners remained incommunicado. Two eternal flames near the entrance shed light on the heavy scenario – the only bright spots in this place. 

As we were going up to the second floor to see Savarkar’s cell (which would have been no different from the others on the ground floor except for his photo, perhaps) we got the phone call – the sea was less rough and the permission had been granted.

We walked back to the pier, had our life jackets strapped on, and with consequent minimum mobility, got into the boat via a dangerously floating moving platform. With hands held out for me from all directions. I managed to raise my now wooden legs, hold on to the wooden post and gracelessly plonk myself into the boat. Then on, it was a fun ride to Ross Island. The boat sped fast and the roaring, swirling waters splashing on our backs and faces was not unwelcome and we were yelling in glee like kids.

Ross Island was an unforgettable experience. The headquarters of the penal settlement, Indian freedom fighters were ‘ab’used to clear the dense tropical forest and build a paradise for the British. Clubs, bazaars, bakeries, tennis courts, ballrooms, church, offices were so embellished with all amenities that the place was called “Paris of the East”. Once full of light and life they were later mostly destroyed by natural calamities. One can see these buildings now, many roofless and in the vicious grip of aerial roots of tropical trees. 

The island was occupied by the British during the pre-independence era until they abandoned it in 1941. Everything was overseen from this island including the construction of the cellular jail. The Japanese occupied it in 1942 during World War II. When they came to the island, the Indians were happy and hopeful, little knowing that it would be a worse scenario. The Japanese war bunkers built in concrete and located at strategic points are fairly well preserved.  One of the more hidden bunkers was discovered by Aruna. Once the seat of Colonial power, the sprawling creepers and banyan trees seemed to throttle the life out of the buildings. Some of the oldest British and Japanese structures have survived the vagaries of nature and colonists.

We were glad the electric cars to take people around were not available that day because the long leisurely walk was a better way of seeing the breath-taking architectural ruins. Among these ruins, there’s an almost magical, protected forest, a sanctuary for a variety of birds and animals including peacocks and deer. Under the shade of tall, tropical trees, the friendly, free and fearless animals thrive. We saw not only deer and peacocks but also a rooster (crowing at regular intervals as if to decide on the best tone) and its family.

The island was renamed Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose Dweep because the first tricolour on the soil of any part of Indian territory is said to have been hoisted here by Netaji Bose. Many still call it Ross Island, perhaps because Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose Dweep can be quite a mouthful. The four-letter name (not word) is easier on the tongue.

It was with a tinge of sadness that we left the picturesque hotel, with its panoramic view of the sea, the frolicking waves, the palm trees swaying in the breeze and just a road between the magical scene and us. How one can become attached to even a temporary abode is a mystery to me.

Havelock Island, the largest of the Andaman Islands, and now called Swaraj Dweep, was a dream destination only accessible by ferry. The jetty again was a sea of humanity. People of all ages were excited at the prospect of cruising to another island.

On the boat, it was such a welcome surprise to enter the Royal Box booked by A&A. Just the 7 of us and comfortable, cushioned seats. Narration of old memories and modes of travel kept us in nostalgic splits as the voyage started. Then the smooth waters suddenly became choppy and the boat seemed to be lifted high by the waves and brought down heavily. The see-saw effect was a bit too much for me and was I sick! Everyone, especially Meera, still remembers the mayonnaise sandwich (served as refreshments) that must have added to the misery.

I must have been the happiest person when we docked. Hundreds spilled out of our boat. Other boats and other people too added to the swelling crowd. All the luggage was laid out neatly on the ground making it easy for people to pick theirs and it was just a short time for identifying our bags and dragging them till the cabs sent by the resort. All of us got in one car and were told the bags would come in another. I think I was relaxed for the first time; instinctively I knew the islanders were trustworthy.

Our resort, Tilar Siro, was special. The name, Tilar Siro comes from the original inhabitants of the Andaman archipelago, the Great Andamanese Tribe, who referred to the island as 'Thi-Lar-Siro', 'Thi' means Earth, 'Lar' means From and 'Siro' means Sea.

We were given a briefing about the resort and what was a novel offer was the free laundering of 6 items of clothing per room per day. All our rooms (two on the ground floor and one on the first floor) were sea-facing. Our large rooms had balconies which made for a good morning coffee nook. Meera was thrilled by the swimming pool, a few steps away from our rooms She taught A&A to float and was quite proud of her role as Guru. If she was not in a mood to get up early, she’d say she was doing ‘ Horizontal Meditation’.

 A very eco-friendly place, the tall luxuriant coconut trees and white sands lined our path from the pool to the beach which was bordered by thick mangrove trees. We had cool walks in the night, when also, because of the unpolluted atmosphere and absolutely clear skies we could see stars and planets and constellations in all their glory from between the canopy of trees. 

We also would wake up early to see the sunrise which illuminated the sea a beautiful pink before it rose in the sky.         

The hammocks on the grass were used to the full by Meera who enjoyed reading her novels on it. Kuppu’s desire to be photographed on one was fulfilled too although his was an awkward climb into it.

The tidal walks were quite an experience. The sea was very shallow and during low tide the water receded quite a bit from the shore. We could see the sand stones and dead corals (rocks) which disappear during hightide.  The hotel would display the sunrise/sunset/high tide/low tide information at the desk with warning flags alerting the people about tide heights. At low tide (normally around 12PM) we could venture quite a distance into the sea. All the stones, covered by the waters at high tide would be exposed and it would be fun wading and sploshing. Meera could venture farther and faster than any of us. Walking on the seabed was an out-of-this world experience.

The restaurant (as well as the rest of the resort) is built on stilts, and the lush vegetation around it was a good hiding and roosting place for birds. Meera looked forward to the breakfast and lunch spreads especially if it was a buffet. She enjoyed seeing, picking and choosing her food.  At times we also went across the road to a restaurant which boasted of, rightly so, excellent cuisine. The service was prompt and we had no complaints, except perhaps for the absence of ACs.

The sunset cruise we took was another memorable experience. We were gingerly lowered into the boat and then life jacketed. The boat took off and the vast expanse of the sea behind us presented a grand picture. The boat almost divided the sea with its white spray and foam. We were able to see coral reefs in the water. We passed Elephant Island, popular for water sports, and Turtle Island before we stopped at the point from where we could get the best view of the majestic sinking sun. The anchor is not thrown for fear of damaging the reefs, buoys are used as an anchor point for the boat. What a view it was from our balcony seats! The dramatic pink and red hues in the blue sky and then the sun dipping into the sea – we savoured the moments. 

The return was fast, furious and thrilling. No wonder we had to fasten our loosened life jackets on the way back. As we disembarked, we heard there was a fire in one of the boats behind us. There was hectic activity and emergency units – police vans, fire engines, and ambulances – all arrived in a jiffy for the rescue operation.

The mangrove walk was another high point of our stay. We had to drive out to the Taj Exotica resort, supposed to be one of the most expensive resorts – far from the madding crowd and exotic, as the name suggests – which had the mangroves behind the hotel itself. Mangrove forests run all along the coastline and form a good barrier of vegetation but for our mangrove walk our guide decided on the mangroves behind the Taj Exotica. Viraj (our guide) was young, well-informed and passionate about probing nature’s wonders. He had a bagful of interesting facts about the forest.  Walking carefully over scattered stones, avoiding tree roots stretching on the ground and braving the balmy heat, we hung on to his words. He showed us spider webs (of a rare kind of spider), resembling a house and its rooms and the female spider which has the upper hand, can retire to the “bedroom” as and when she desires.  We saw trees more than 200 years old and saw umpteen number of crab holes. We learnt that trees communicate with one another through their roots especially when a “disaster” is imminent. The birds and other creatures on the trees also get the warning signal and take necessary steps. All in all, it was a precarious yet precious walk. 

Our guide then led us from the dense mangrove into light – the Radhanagar beach. Recognized as the best beach in Asia by Time magazine in the year 2004, it is still regarded as one of the best beaches in the world and boasts a Blue Flag certification (a prestigious award to state the cleanliness and eco-friendliness of beaches). It is an enormous wide, clean beach, running alongside the wide blue sea.  A large part of the beach was dotted with crab holes and the designs around these holes made by balls of sand by male crabs to attract the females were amazingly intricate.  Awesome work, we agreed, of the ardent, artistic wooers. No one was complaining. It was a spectacular finale to the mangrove walk.

Five out of our party of seven went snorkeling. It doesn’t need a genius to guess who the two who refused the adventure were. Our snorkelers had to fill out papers, sign in a lot of places to exclude any kind of risk to the organizers. We could see them poring over the papers and doing their homework at breakfast time. It was all worth their while because they had a whale of a time under water seeing fishes, coral reefs and snakes. Meera was a bundle of delight when she came back and said “It’s easy and fun, Pati. You and Thatha should come next time”. Those intimidated by snorkeling can have vicarious pleasure in glass bottomed boats or submarine type of boats with portholes to look at marine life.

The resort was readying itself for Christmas when we left. Decorations were in full swing and the place took on a colourful and festive appearance.

Leaving the lovely resort and the lush environs was not easy but pack we did and readied to reach Port Blair. The ferry back, barring tumultuous waves in a few spots, was more comfortable.

The pristine beauty of the place, the lovely beaches, evergreen tropical forests and activities spread over land and water, the shimmering sunrise, the ethereal sunset, the lush vegetation, our exciting activities – all these made our holiday memorable. The staff at the resort were very polite and helpful. Though tourism is the major industry, the islands are conserved by keeping tourists away from certain touristic activities and protecting the lush magnificence and marine life special to this place.

Our week-long stay taught us many lessons – the most important being modernization or development does not mean discarding or crushing the old out of existence. Andaman Islands thrives and looks ahead but not without respecting the feelings of the indigenous tribes and letting them live their way – not without protecting the endemic flora and fauna by banning tourists from any activities that would endanger the precious sea and land gems. Also, the naval presence and the island administration ensures that rules are followed strictly. In Havelock, the key to its popularity fell into our laps.

Chettinad

2021 had put paid to our Golden Wedding Anniversary plans so we were gifted a 2022 holiday in Chettinad. Many must have wondered ‘Why Chettinad?’ I think any place in India deserves a question as its answer ‘Why Not?’

We landed in Madurai and had a 2-hour car drive ahead of us. And would you believe? We were able to get the services of the same driver Karthick who had taken us to the South India temples on our temple tour. He was as voluble as before and as full of spicy stories of politicians and celebrities. We did not have to turn on the car radio at all!

Comprising 75 villages, the largest being Karaikudi, Chettinad had reached a high level of affluence and prosperity because of the Chettiars who were very enterprising merchants, trading with many South East Asian countries, bringing back untold wealth (and material like wood, steel etc.). The money was used in importing exquisite Belgian glass, sturdy Birmingham steel, smooth Italian marble, beautifully designed Japanese tiles, solid Burma teak, all of which were used in the mansions they built and owned.

Patronized by the Cholas and then the Pandyas, the Chettiar merchants would be on seas for lengthy periods during which time their womenfolk and children would take care of the property. They were also very successful money-lenders and bankers.

However, the post-war scenario was not very conducive to their maritime trade. They lost their monopoly in that field, fell on bad days, and could not maintain their lavish lifestyle. They relocated to other cities and abroad (especially Singapore) but would always return to their multi-storied mansions and large families for functions and religious festivals.

Today, in the lanes of the villages, we can still see the earlier elegance and grandeur in the mansions. Granted, many are in dilapidated condition (but still standing), some are in the hands of caretakers, some managed by Chettiar trusts to keep their old charm intact while others have been converted into hotels.

We stayed in one such heritage hotel ‘Visalam’, a mansion bequeathed by its Chettiar owner to his daughter Visalakshi. This is a celebrated residence. Built almost a century ago, it retains the gleaming floors and polished windows and doors. Tiles and fabrics from local small industries and handloom weavers continue to be used here. Like all other mansions, this one too had the traditional ‘old is gold’ touch; the large courtyard (double or triple storeyed) surrounded by pillars on a higher level and with rooms all around; the imposing façade, the high ceilings, the banquet hall, simple and inviting with its floor seating arrangement.

You could sense something warm and calming about the place. Consisting of only 15 rooms (huge and comfortable), there was no fear or risk of people breathing down each others necks. There was a coffee hall with an old radio, pagade, pallanghuzi and other games but we preferred to sip on our morning coffee on the lawns outside. The shady mango tree with small mangoes at an unreachable height was an attention seeker. A family of hens and chicks would follow one another looking for insects in the grass and sometimes just scurrying across it (they must have heard it’s good to walk on grass). A rooster also was part of the animal world but it never seemed to wake up early enough to wake up others. We heard an owl once in the evening, but it must have realized it mistimed its presence and its hooting was not heard again. 

Lovely bougainvillea covered the walls, antique chairs and a cart from the bygone days amused us. A lady would draw beautiful kolam every morning without fail – a tradition dear to us. We enjoyed these simple pleasures in this serene place. Neither flamboyant nor overstated, the heritage house, an enduring and endearing symbol of paternal love, seemed to bask in its own soft radiance.

A short walk outside our hotel took us to the streets / lanes that were witnesses to the lavish lives of the Chettiars. The mansions were awesome, standing cheek by jowl, most of them extending from one end of the street to the other with boxed windows and balconies jutting out onto the street. We counted 50 windows on one side of one mansion. Almost all the mansions had bright, colourful facades with Goddess Laxmi seated above the entrance arch. The colours of the sculptures of the Goddess and other Gods were fascinating. Ganesha, Rama, Seetha, Laxmana, Hanuman also found pride of place at the entrance arch.

As we walked on, at sunset time at one spot we saw a multitude of birds – parrots, bulbuls, crows, screeching, desperately flying from one tree to another, creating an unearthly cacophony. Looking for a resting place for the night or just enjoying the clamour, we didn’t know, but it was nature at its noisiest.

We saw the mansion where the movie “Kandukondain Kandukondain” was shot. An awesome construction, we could only see it from the outside as it is closed to the public. The ornate balconies, the polished pillars, the stained-glass windows, everything was an absolute spectacle. 

We also entered a mansion whose old lady caretaker was happy to have someone to talk to because we could see her husband lolling on his easy chair. More importantly, we think she wanted to proudly show off the palatial house she was lovingly tending. The old style kitchen with a row of “chulhas”, and doorways made of teak wood with intricate designs left us gasping. She showed one particular pattern on the door which she claimed would be found in no other mansion. That is why, though she made us pose in front of the door for a photo, she moved us this way and that and made sure we did not block the exquisite work on wood.

In all these places, the resplendent, imposing facades, the tall, polished, beautifully carved columns, the courtyard with provision for rainwater to flow out, the huge kitchens, banquet halls and wedding halls, the work on wood and granite were marvellous – it was impossible to even imagine how skilful, patient and creative the craftsmen of yore must have been.

We had 2 other options with regard to our stay – a luxurious mansion turned hotel “Chidambara Vilas” and a more modern “Bangala”. But we decided on the CGH Earth Visalam because we had experienced the warmth and cosiness of CGH Earth before in Kerala and Tamil Nadu (there is still loyalty left in the world). So that we were not entirely deprived of the options not taken, we went there for lunch on two different days.

Chidambara Vilas is a magnificent mansion with its luxurious interiors. What we saw left us spellbound. The lunch was served on traditional banana leaves in their dining room. While Visalam is in the middle of the village Kanadukathan, Chidambara Vilas was on the “outskirts”.

Bangala had its mansion façade but was a sprawling green place inside, more like a colonial club. The food here is to “live for”. The taste of the made-in-the-hotel ice cream (mango and vanilla) still lingers. Bangala has won many awards for its culinary creations. The lip-smacking recipes have been passed down from one generation to another in this family run hotel.

We visited the Athangudi palace (one open to the public at a price) located in the village by that name. The entrance itself mesmerised us with its variety of tiles on floor, walls, and ceiling, bright arches, doors made of Burma teak wood, floors of Italian marble, single stone granite pillars, inner ceilings made of teak wood, beautiful sculptures, the hall with an awesome ceiling with a central design in gold of Meenakshi’s kalyanam.

People called it the “imported house” because of the imported fixtures and interiors. Lord Krishna’s story is painted on all the arches of windows. The Belgian mirrors were covered, perhaps to protect it from the continuous footfall. The delicate lattice work on the edges of the wooden arches covering must be seen to be believed. A special mixture of limestone used on the walls gives it a soft appearance and keeps the place cool. The old style furniture, stained glass panes on ventilators, extensive verandas give the place a quaint, exotic look. 

We also visited one of the many small scale Athangudi tile making factories. The beautifully patterned tiles made with local cement and colour powders are soaked in water for 3 days and then sundried for many days. The beautiful patterns help in making the magnificent villas look even more splendid. These tiles have made a name for themselves in the international market also.

Who can think of leaving a South Indian city without seeing its temples? Especially if they are ancient temples with an aura of their own.

On our wedding anniversary, we first went to a very well-known Thirumayam Vishnu temple. Unfortunately that day there was a death in the fort behind the temple hence it was closed. We decided we’d go again in the evening. And Lo and Behold it was open then.

This ancient 9^th century cave temple (one of the 108 divya desams) has two famous rock cut shrines. One of the presiding deities, Sathyamurthy, is a 7 foot idol, standing tall and divine along with His consorts. In the adjoining sanctum, the sculpture of Vishnu is in a sleeping position, reclining on the Seshanaga who is believed to be a protective force and who burns the asuras who planned to kidnap Bhoodevi and Sreedevi. Their sculptures are on the chest and near the feet of the Lord, which is where they are supposed to have hidden themselves. Following this legend, the sculpted Adisesha is shown with flames emanating from it – one hand of Lord Vishnu seems to be resting on Adisesha, calming it.

The anantasayi Vishnu of this temple is supposed to be only second in importance to the one in Srirangam. The idol occupies the entire rear wall in the garbha gudi and is surrounded by various other celestial figures. There are also individual sannadhis for Lord Narsimha, Andal Devi, Garuda. The stone carved sculptures are breath taking. An octagonal tank with 108 steps distributed over the 8 sides is part of the temple precincts.

A Shiva temple is located in the same complex, a few meters away. The sanctum sanctorum has a Shiva Lingam sculpted from the rock of the cave itself. Inside, it was profusely hot and humid and all of us were almost drenched in sweat. But the young priest performed the puja with such sincerity and faith that we really felt blessed.

Hewn from the same rock, the Shiva and Vishnu temples are said to be dedicated to the unity of Vaishnavism and Shaivism especially at the time when each was vying for supremacy. A granite wall surrounds the temple enclosing all its shrines as if reiterating the oneness of the Gods.

The rock-cut Vinayaka temple we visited was teeming with humanity because of the kumbhabhishekam that was being performed. People were standing in quite a disciplined manner to see the deity. We only had a long-distance view and were planning an exit when a gentleman showed us another way to reach the diety. A Chettiar had come for darshan so there was a bit of delay. What impressed us was that everyone in all the queues was given a chance to see the deity (covered in gold) from close quarters and take aarathi.

The Shiva temple close by was serene and quiet. The paintings on the ceilings had an interesting feature – there were angels with tilaks and also British soldiers. The sculptures of the 63 nayanmars, side by side, in a long line was another majestic sight.

We had heard of one particular temple with terracotta horses and set out to visit it. We initially went to a temple with awe inspiring huge terracotta horses. An NRI family, whose kula devata was the deity there was waiting for the priest and we realized that we were not at the temple we were looking for. Nevertheless we went looking around. Ashta Lakshmi sculptures adorned the inner walls and we came to a small area where we saw different lengths of sacrificial chopping swords ensconced in their niches. The local Gods are apparently appeased and honoured with the sacrifice of roosters and goats.

We got to the temple we were looking for – a beautiful village shrine dedicated to Ayyanar. The sculpted guardians of the village stand tall and fierce in front of the temple. It is a very open, clean and airy temple. It is very unique in that there is a vibrant array of terracotta horses, old and new, along the outer wall of the temple. It is believed that the village deity (the grama devatha) protects his village(s) by riding around them on a white horse. Every year, on a particular festival day in March, devotees offer pretty clay horses to their lord as a gesture of gratitude. Stunning ceilings seem to be a hallmark of temples here. The colourful façade enhances the radiance of the temple.

There is a hitherto unseen coloured sculpture on the entrance wall called Adhyanath Prabhu. It is half Ganesha and half Hanuman. The concept is itself so different. The villagers say that the Ayyappa temple has evolved from the Ayyannar temple. They have the same set of observances too. While Ashwin and Kuppu went in, we were planning to follow them. As we moved, there was a loud “NO” from an eagle eyed old lady, “You can’t go there”. So we drew back. An elderly couple saw us looking helpless and decided to help us by drawing a Laxman Rekha for Aruna. The gentleman then turned to me and asked “Are you over 60? Then you can go in”. I felt elated about the compliment – I didn’t look 60+. Wow!

As we continued to stand there, my entire face suffused in pride, another couple came, the gentleman redrew the line of control for Aruna but said, pointing to me, “Paati can go in”. That elation was short-lived and balloon like, deflated so soon! That Wow soon turned to Ouch!

The antique market is a couple of lanes with shops on either side. One shop exclusively had bronze and brass idols of all Gods, another had the pillars that would be found in wealthy homes. Copper and bronze cookware shone from some stores and ceramic objects were displayed proudly in some. These must have been sold off by the owners when they could no longer afford to retain them. They were priceless memorabilia. Some streets also have doors and other furniture on the pavement, which have perhaps outlived their use and will be revamped and sold. It is painful to see the fall of some of the hitherto prosperous families.

We felt a bit saddened at the thought of leaving our hotel and Chettinad after the brief but unforgettable holiday. But then, Goodbyes are always laced with sadness. It was the same with us. Perhaps we were a bit relieved to be leaving the hot, humid conditions behind us but we were carrying a lot of memories of centuries gone by. Karaikudi and Athangudi will be part of our wonderful Chettinad experience.